


Late Night Study Session

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: Finally, the handsome Steve Rogers takes up your offer to be study buddies and you swear you could make it more if only Bucky Barnes wasn’t everywhere you turned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Porting over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

You walked eagerly to the library, practically giddy with anticipation of the afternoon to come. You were finally studying with Steve Rogers, the guy you’d been dying to get close to since class started ten weeks ago. The guy who had no right to be so good looking and sweet and funny and…  
Well anyway, he asked you to help him study which means he knows you exist and he wants to spend time with you outside of class. The whole idea was practically begging to turn into the sickly sweet romance you had craved since you were old enough to know what your mother was reading when your father wasn’t home.  
Steve was that guy, the guy from the romance novels; a noble and honest man of a selfless profession with just enough of a naughty streak to please a woman. It was exactly what you wanted in a boyfriend and here he was, starting the first chapter of your love story.  
“Hey Steve.” You greeted, your smile bright and welcoming. You placed your books down on the table and sat yourself down in the chair across from him.  
“Hey, thank you so much for this.” Steve said, he could barely lift his eyes from the notes in front of him. Your heart fluttered at the strain on his face. He was so dedicated; so passionate.  
“Sure, no problem.” You attempted to act nonchalant as you busied yourself with opening your book to the correct chapter. Were your hands shaking? You placed them in your lap and waited for Steve to make the first move. Whether that was discussing schoolwork or asking you out on a date you would be happy either way.  
It took a couple of minutes, but soon the two of you were flowing freely through conversation. Steve wasn’t as far behind as he made you believe when he first asked you to meet him, in fact you secretly hoped it was all a ploy to get you alone together.  
“There you are.” Came a voice from behind Steve, you pulled your eyes away from his bright blues to rest upon an unfamiliar man with equally striking blue eyes.  
“Hey Buck, yeah I had some studying to do. Was Sam not there to let you in?” Steve asked the man who was now sitting down next to him, ceasing the pleasant atmosphere you were cloaked in when it was just you and Steve.  
The man, Bucky, Steve had said, shook his head no, putting his feet up on the table. You not so subtly moved your purse away from his large black boots.  
“I’ll just hang out until your done.” He told Steve, still not acknowledging you at all, not even when you moved your bag.  
Steve nodded, smiling at his friend and seeming not at all bothered by the most recent addition to your study group. His attention finally turned back to you, his smile so wide and open you could feel your annoyance fading.  
“This is my best friend, Bucky.” Steve introduced you, “She’s also a criminal justice major and helping me study for the final in a few weeks. She’s really smart.” You blushed hard at the unexpected compliment, not hiding the small, hopeful smile forming on your lips.  
Bucky made a noncommittal noise in the back if his throat, like he didn’t actually care to know anything about you. But the way his eyes moved, from you to Steve to the table before him, proved he learned all he needed to already.  
You didn’t see the look, too busy ogling at Steve. And Steve didn’t notice either, too busy reviewing his notes. The focus returned to studying once more, though the mood did not settle into the comfort and ease it had been before Bucky appeared.  
“I can’t look at this anymore.” Steve groaned, his hands sunk into his hair and his eyes lay unseeing at his textbook. You solemnly agreed, your attention had fizzled an hour ago.  
“I’m going to go to the bathroom and then we can go home Buck.” Steve turned to Bucky, who had been playing on his phone since sitting down. Bucky nodded without taking his eyes off of his phone. You began packing up, trying not to watch Steve’s sweatpants clad ass as it walked away.  
“You like him.” Bucky stated, his eyes still on his phone. Your hands dropped the stack of papers you were shuffling together.  
“What’s it matter?”  
Bucky laughed, finally putting his phone away and taking his feet off the table. He sat forward and stared into your eyes. The eye contact sent you straight backed in your chair, the stormy blue eyes holding so much intensity it made you uncomfortable.  
“It doesn’t.” He offered simply. His intensity morphing into mirth, his once straight face forming a smirk. You lost all discomfort at the jab and found yourself leaning forward to meet Bucky in the middle of the table, close enough feel his breath on your cheeks.  
“I-” you began, but Steve’s re entry cut off your chance to put Bucky in his place.  
“Woah.” Steve playfully put his hands in the air, “didn’t mean to interrupt.” You pulled away as fast as you could, realizing your proximity to Bucky was misinterpreted as flirting and by the one person you didn’t want assuming the situation.  
“Nah, we can finish this later. Right, doll?” Bucky winked in your direction, obvious enough for Steve to see. You scowled and roughly reshuffled your papers before stuffing them between the pages of your book. Steve began packing up as well, though with his hands more gentle on his notes than yours as he did so. With a thump Bucky’s boots came to rest on the table once more, and you only just moved your purse out of the way in time.  
“See you same time next week?” Steve asked you as you stood. You froze, feeling the anger slide away and hope replace the negative emotion. You nodded eagerly causing Steve to smile gratefully. You couldn’t help but smile back.  
“Great, I’ll text you.” Your heart soared at the promise and you found yourself nodding some more, probably looking like a broken bobblehead.  
“Maybe next time we can meet somewhere more…” your hard eyes meet Bucky’s playful ones, his eyebrows shooting up in challenge, “private.” You concluded, finally returning your attention back to Steve. He nodded and stood Bucky following lazily.  
You sped out of the library with a final small wave and only slowed down when you passed into the courtyard behind the psychology building. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to your best friend, Tony.  
Meet me for a drink in 20?  
The response came almost instantly and you thanked Tony for always being on his phone.  
Seducing Steve didn’t go well?  
You laughed at loud, less in humor and more in self deprecation. You put your phone away and continued the trek to your dorm to put your books away. Tony would get an earful of your late night study session at the bar tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

“So that’s him huh?” Tony asked, openly staring at Bucky and Steve. You grunted out an affirmation, your eyes not leaving your beer. Not that they would notice if you were staring or not, too wrapped up in their own conversation at the bar to even glance around the room.  
“He’s cute.” Tony concluded, turning around to face the correct way in the booth.  
“He’s a menace.” You spit back, “And a cockblock.” You added after a moment.  
Tony shrugged, slipping his martini and stretching his arm across the plush backing of his seat. He smirked and raised his eyebrows at you. It was a silent language you had learned quickly from your friendship, dissecting each of Tony’s facial tics or seemingly random gestures was basically a requirement to truly get the man. You knew what this one was saying- But I’m not wrong.  
Your eyes flicked to the two men at the bar. Your eyes first landing on Steve, his profile strong yet soft in the low light of the bar. Even with eyes downcast you knew under the lids were bright blue eyes you could wade into and let yourself drown in. Your eyes shifted just behind the beautiful man you’ve admired all semester. This sight was new and unfamiliar, but you had to agree with Tony, he was not entirely unpleasant.  
Your eyes took him in with a freedom you didn’t have in the library. His hair was in similar style to Steve’s, only brown and a little more grown out which caused it to fall almost into his eyes. And those eyes, blue like Steve’s but darker and wider, fanned by dark lashes and expressive eyebrows. And the five o'clock shadow was rather dashing, especially since it emphasized his plush lips…  
“You got a little drool there.” Tony teased, leaning far over the table to wipe his hand across your chin. You glared at him, pushing his hand away.  
“Shut up,” you grumbled, crossing your arms across your chest and slouching away from his still outstretched fingers. Your eyes flicked back to the bar subconsciously, causing Tony to laugh loudly, loud enough to catch the attention of most of the bar, including Steve and Bucky.  
You slumped lower in your seat, your stomach sinking in embarrassment. Tony stretched his legs onto the you seat, one on each side of you. He kicked his Chuck Taylors in a light rhythm against your thighs further reveling in your humiliation. You dared to glance away from the table and up to the bar only to find amused stares from the two subjects of your conversation.  
Steve smiled shyly and waved when he saw you look his way. You smiled back, though you were sure it looked more like a grimace. You allowed your fingers to wave in his direction.  
“Wait, what is-” you started, hurriedly sitting up in the booth. You hadn’t meant for your wave to be any more than an acknowledgment of his greeting, but for some unknown reason Steve and Bucky were heading your way. Tony turned around, catching sight of what changed your posture so drastically. He turned back to you and reading his face you knew exactly what he was telling you - this is going to be fun for me but not for you.  
“Mind if we join you?” Steve asked, to which Tony opened his arms widely and moved to the far side of the booth.  
“Our booth es su booth.” Tony replied in terrible, broken Spanish.  
Steve smiled gratefully, letting out a light chuckle as Tony smacked his hand on the newly available space, urging him to sit down. You glared at him, lips tight in a snarl. Of course Tony would manipulate the situation out of your favor, the spoiled brat.  
You didn’t budge when Bucky stepped over to your side, nor when he began to slide into the booth. With a well placed hip check he sent you far enough into the booth to sit comfortably and when you moved farther away he followed, well past what he needed in terms of adequate space.  
“Didn’t think we’d meet again so soon, doll.” Bucky’s voice practically dripped with satirical flirtation. You didn’t have a chance to counter his sarcasm, not with Tony launching into an engaging introduction of himself complete with his novelty business cards. (Tony Stark - genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…what a ham!)  
You rolled your eyes and sat back in your seat once more. Tony could get anyone to listen to him talk, it seemed to be his favorite thing to do. He lived for an audience and while most of the time you enjoyed being part of his public you really wanted to smack him upside the head for stealing Steve’s attention.  
“Helloooo,” Tony barked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He wiggled his martini glass in your face before setting it down with a clink. “It's your turn babe.”  
You rolled your eyes, grabbing his empty glass and moving close to Bucky so you could stand up. He didn’t budge when your thigh ran flush with his. You shouldered his side but he only continued to laugh along with Steve at something Tony had just said.  
“Excuse me.” You snapped, breaking up the conversation. Bucky finally took in your presence, as if only just remembering you were there. You gestured outside the booth, holding Tony’s empty martini glass.  
He pushed himself out of the booth and when yous stood he shoved his own empty glass into your free hand.  
“Get me another too.” He sniffed before putting his hand on your lower back and pushing you out of his way. You stood stunned for a split second before whirling around to face him, sliding his glass back onto the table.  
“Fuck you,” you seethed, “I am not your waitress.”  
“Let me come with you.” Steve offered hastily, leaving the booth and grabbing Bucky’s glass from where you placed it. “Your usual Buck?” He asked and after receiving a nod from his friend Steve turned toward the bar, you followed just behind only after sending Bucky another fiery glare to which he only grinned and winked.  
“Sorry about that.” Steve said after you both ordered drinks from the bartender.  
“It's not your fault.” You assured him, placing a daring hand on the arm he had laying across the bar. He looked up at you with a small smile. Your heart was fluttering wildly, he didn't pull away! That must mean something right? You were so caught up in the feel of Steve’s muscular forearm under your palm that you missed what Steve was saying.  
“Huh?”  
He laughed, “I asked how you met your friend there.” He gestured with his head toward the booth where Tony and Bucky were happily conversing.  
“Oh, I met Tony at a party actually. He got a little too drunk and no one seemed to realize he was too far gone except me. I took care of him all night. Once you wipe vomit off someone’s face you’re officially friends” You smiled to yourself at the memory of Tony’s head in the toilet, absolutely miserable. It was an image you evoked when his ego got too big, which was often.  
“You’re a good friend.” The compliment made you bite your lip. Two compliments from Steve Rogers in one day?  
“You are too.” You said and before you could stop yourself from the dig you added, “you’re practically a saint for hanging out with that jackss.”  
Steve laughed, the column of his throat stretching as he let his head fall back. You forgot to laugh with him, lost in the beauty of his happiness.  
“Bucky’s not that bad once you get to know him.” He explained, “He just acts this way sometimes.”  
“Why?”  
Steve shrugs as if he doesn't know, but the curve of his full lips affirms he simply doesn’t want to tell you. The bartender brings your drinks before you can prod Steve for more information and the two of you head back to the party in companionable silence.  
The night continued rather pleasantly after that. Tony kept the conversation flowing and the bar tab open, much to the delight of his new friends. Steve and Tony got along really well to your surprise, discussing every topic approached so easily. You and Bucky mostly sat back and enjoyed the company, not of each other mind you, laughing when things were funny and adding to the commentary when looks were sent your way, begging for support.  
It had been a long day for you, though no one else seemed ready to call it a night and end the discussion. You found yourself unable to follow the exchange, hard pressed to remark where the opportunity was offered. And through it wasn’t the first time you’ve fallen asleep in a public place (you are in college after all) it was the first time you fell asleep on the shoulder of a cockblocking jackass. And if he put his arm around you and pulled you closer to his warm chest…well you were just too tired to notice such a nice gesture, or accept it happened the next morning.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week since you woke up to a finger tickling the rim of your nostril in the closing campus bar and the resulting uproarious laughter of Bucky, Steve, and Tony.  
“You drooled all over my shirt!” Bucky had called at your retreating back, but you were too annoyed from your rude awakening to even say goodbye. You had luckily not seen Bucky since that night, but you had been texting Steve!  
You smiled every time your phone went off with a message from him, which admittedly was rare. Steve wasn’t really a texter; the man didn't even use emojis! When your phone lit up with another text from Steve and you didn't have to contain your squeal of delight in the privacy of your own apartment.  
“Who’s got you making those noises?” Natasha called from the doorway of her room, reminding you that you weren’t actually experiencing privacy in your apartment.  
You shrugged, your fingers moving quickly across the keyboard to respond to Steve’s brief text of still on to study?  
“A guy from my class.” You responded vaguely, hoping she would drop the subject.  
It’s not that you didn’t like Natasha, but the girl was reserved and pretty secretive about her own life and you were petty enough to want to retaliate in the same way. You had expected your first roommate experience to be like the media portrayed: watching movies, sharing clothes and secrets, becoming best friends, etcetera. Three years in to living with Nat and you hadn’t watched one movie together, but every year neither of you requested a new roommate.  
She turned back into her room and you thought you were safe, but she returned to the doorway with her purse and continued as if there was not reprieve in the conversation, “That Bucky guy?”  
You stared at her wide eyed, sputtering and stumbling at the name of the person you would be texting the least being called as first.  
“No, definitely not.” You managed, “How the hell do you know about him?”  
Natasha was smiling with satisfaction as she walked towards the front door.  
“Tony told me.” She said before opening the door, walking out, and slamming it behind her. You stared at the closed door for another second before turning back to your phone and composing a new text, this time to your now ex-best friend, Tony Stark.  
Why does my roommate know about Fuckhead Bucky?  
In true Tony fashion a response came through quickly. You opened the message and seethed at his cheeky response.  
More like Fuck-me Bucky am I right?  
Followed by an eggplant emoji and the winking, tongue out emoji.  
You threw your phone aside and flipped on the TV. Tony wasn’t even worth responding to right now.  
As a college student with no classes today you did the usual: you binge watched episodes of shitty reality television and fell asleep on the couch. When you woke up groggily to your phone ringing. Your Netflix was paused and asking “Are You Still There?”  
“Hello,” you muttered into your phone as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.  
“Hey, its Steve.” Greeted the caller. You poked yourself in the eye in surprise and let out a pained yelp.  
“Uhh, are you okay? Should I call later?” His deep voice asked.  
“No,” you rushed, “I just stubbed my toe.” You lied, hoping to keep Steve on the phone. Your heart fluttered; this was your first phone call, he had called you!  
“Alright,” he said in an airy chuckle. Your heart skipped a beat and you stood from the couch, unable to sit still with the sudden case of jitters.  
“So, what’s up?”  
“Oh, yeah. I texted you a couple times and you didn’t respond. I can’t make it to the library to study today.”  
Your heart sank and the excitement you had felt dissipated as soon as it had appeared. You sank back into the couch dejectedly.  
“Is everything okay?” You asked. You weren’t sure if you were asking out of obligation, genuine concern, or the underlying desire to know Steve better.  
“Yeah everything is fine I just…can’t leave my apartment tonight.” His excuse was weak and you both knew it. You smiled and bit your lip, unsure if he just didn't want to see you or if he was trying to find a reason for you to come over. There was only one way to find out.  
“We don’t have to meet at the library. I can come over if that's better for you.” You prayed you sounded casual. You were back to walking around your living room, releasing your nervous energy.  
“I don't want to inconvenience-”  
“Oh no it’s no big deal.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah I don’t mind at all.”  
Steve finally conceded and told you he would text you his address before hanging up. Knowing Natasha wasn’t home you didn’t even attempt to stifle the sounds of glee.  
You didn’t have to walk far to Steve’s apartment, but you did have to walk alone. You clutched your purse closely to your side and held tightly to your keychain pepper spray. You had always felt safe on campus, but that was because you never walked alone. There was usually a crowd of students to walk close to during the day and Tony accompanied you on all of your night time adventures but Tony wasn’t here now and the campus quieted down after dark, leaving you to walk the half mile alone in the cute summer dress you convinced yourself would get Steve’s attention without looking like you were trying too hard.  
You arrived at Steve’s place with no incident and when you knocked he opened the door quickly, offering you a friendly hello before moving aside to let you in. His apartment was similar to your’s and Nat’s but definitely lived in by men. Crooked car posters lined the walls and a disused beer pong table was pushed into the corner, the kitchen was the laziest definition of clean and the house overall just smelled of man. You accepted Steve’s offer of a drink and waited awkwardly in the living room, unsure if you should sit down here or if you were going to Steve’s room.  
He passed you a bottle of water and gestured to the couch. Damn, you thought to yourself, though you should have known a gentleman like Steve would not be so quick to take you to his bedroom. He was being polite and respectful, both qualities of a good boyfriend. You sat down on one side and he sat on the other and for the next hour you stayed that way, the only parts of you touching you were your notes as you passed them back and forth.  
It was nice, more easy going than your first time studying. That could have been because you weren’t in the quiet library but you also thought it was because Steve was starting to feel your chemistry. He was laughing at something you had said when the nice, relaxed atmosphere was ruined.  
He barged in like he owned the place. Without even looking over he stomped further into the room and stripped off his shirt before bending down to sort through a hamper in the corner.  
Steve coughed and Bucky turned around midway through putting on a fresh shirt. You couldn’t help but stare. He was a jackass, yes but a jackass with a nice body.  
“We have company.” Steve told him, as if the intruder wasn’t looking at you already. You could practically feel his eyes as they traced up your bare legs to your exposed shoulders and cleavage, finally reaching your face and speaking.  
“Looks like we both get an eyeful.”  
You felt your cheeks heat and glared, resolutely keeping your eyes on his face. It didn't matter though. He finished putting on his shirt and turned around. You continued to watch as he slid through the small opening he made in the sliding glass door and closed it, sitting down heavily and lighting a cigarette.  
Steve sighed and you turned to find he was also staring at Bucky. You reached across the couch and put a comforting hand on his shoulder and his eyes came back to you. He cleared his throat and looked back down at his notes. You both continued where you left off but instead of laughing there was the occasional glance at the man on the patio.  
“He’s been out there for an hour.” Steve said absently, interrupting the flashcard question you were quizzing him on. You looked back over at Bucky as you had been only moments ago. Besides the curling smoke and filling ash tray you wouldn't know you were looking at a dynamic subject, he was practically statuesque.  
“Maybe you should go talk to him.” You couldn’t stand the mood Bucky had put the whole house in. If you had to relinquish Steve for a while to get things back to where they were you would gladly do it. You didn't want to lose what you and Steve had building.  
Steve nodded and rose from the couch, you watched his straight shoulders as he moved away from you. They sat across from each other at the patio table, Bucky still not moving more than what was needed to take drags from the cigarette while Steve looked concerned. Their mouths were moving but you could hear nothing. You looked away, feeling like a voyeur on the personal moment. You browsed through your phone and waited for Steve to come back. The front door opened just as you were starting to get antsy.  
“Oh, hello.” He said when he saw you. You waved at him and stood quickly to introduce yourself, feeling awkward and alone in a house that wasn’t yours and obviously his.  
“Sam.” He said simply. His eyes still taking you in with suspicion. He looked past you to the books and notes still sitting on the couch where Steve had left them.  
“I think I know who you are.” He said and suddenly his eyes were more teasing than wary. “You’re the drooling girl.”  
You opened your mouth, about to defend yourself when the sliding glass door opened and both Bucky and Steve entered the living room.  
“This the drooling girl?” Sam asked, pointing at you. You tried yet again to set him straight but Bucky beat you to it.  
“That’s her.”  
Sam gave you a once over when you sent a nasty look at Bucky.  
“She’s cuter than you said.” Same observed as if you weren’t there.  
“Believe me she didn’t look like that,” Bucky indicated at your dress, “at the bar.” His eyes were back to roaming feely up and down your body, making you feel more exposed than you had all night.  
You were quickly getting put off, especially with Steve not coming to your defence as you had imagined he would. You bent down and picked up your purse from beside the corner of the couch. With a last withering glare at Bucky, and only a small glare at Steve you brushed past Sam and opened the door.  
“Hey, you can drool on me anytime darlin.” Sam called after you with a laugh.  
You felt like crying. Nothing had gone like you expected and it was all his fault. You had imagined Steve walking you home, concern for your safety in the late hour. You imagined hands brushing but never reaching out to hold and the soft kiss you would press to his cheek once you got to your door.  
But because of Bucky you were walking back home alone and too upset to pay attention to potential dangers around you. So when a hand encircled your upper arm and pulled you back all you could do was scream and reach frantically into your purse for your pepper spray.  
“Stop screaming you idiot it's me.” Growled a familiar, low voice in your ear. You turned your head to confirm your suspicions.  
“What the fuck do you want?” You harshly pushed Bucky away and kept walking. He followed, albeit at a slower pace.  
“I need more cigarettes.” He shrugged catching up to you. He had lit what looked to be his final cigarette and after inhaling deeply passed the smoking stick to you.  
You shook your head, “Smoking is bad for you.”  
He shrugged again and when the sidewalk split he continued to walk with you. You would have pointed out that the convenience store was the other direction if you weren’t at least slightly grateful for his presence. You seriously hated walking alone at night.  
“It’s a habit I picked up overseas. Haven’t found a good reason to quit yet I guess.”  
Your mind whirled with this new bit of information. It was the most you’d ever learned about Bucky outside of his name and that ultimately you disliked him.  
“You were in the military?” You asked stupidly. Duh, that’s what he just said. He either glossed over or missed the redundancy of your question as he didn’t comment on it, only took another drag.  
“Right out of high school. Only time me and Steve have ever been apart. Luckily he’s letting me crash with him while I…figure some things out.”  
You nodded, mumbling something about Steve being a nice guy. It felt weird to bring him up right now, like there was this bubble walking down the sidewalk that should only contain you and Bucky and if you tried to fit another person like Steve in it, it would pop. You turned and Bucky followed, your apartment building now looming closer. You considered saying goodnight right there, so he couldn’t see where you lived specifically, but instead of stopping your legs kept going up the three flights and down to the end of the hall.  
You were used to the trek after three years in the same apartment, but when you came to your front door Bucky was more than a little winded.  
You giggled, “Aren’t you army men supposed to be in shape?” You asked playfully as you dug into your purse for your keys.  
“I’ve been out for a while doll.” He wheezed back. He stretched his arms to rest on top of his head, opening up his ribcage and revealing a tantalizing strip of skin between his belly button and his…well…  
You tore your eyes away from the revealing flesh, “Told you, you should stop smoking.”  
“Give me a reason.”  
You scoffed, “I just gave you a reason.”  
“I need a better one. Kiss me and I’ll quit.”  
You scoffed again, this time with more disbelief. What fucking game was he trying to play? Kiss him? You could barely stand him! And after one normal conversation he wanted some action? You should have just unlocked your door and walked inside but you didn't have the discipline to walk away without letting your mouth run first.  
“I don't know what world you are living in but from where I’m standing I don’t kiss people I don’t like.”  
He groaned, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t actually upset. He let his head fall back before dropping his arms down and directing then at your body.  
“You come around my place looking like that and basically telling me you don't want me to die and you expect me to believe you don't want me to kiss you.”  
“Are you insane?” Your voice was shrill and echoed through the concrete hall. You whispered the question again for the sake of your neighbors.  
“Kiss me or I’ll keep smoking until it kills me.” He urged, his voice low as well and a persistent grin on his lips. At least he had some courtesy to match your volume.  
“Is that a threat? Because if so it’s not a ver-mph!” His hands moved to your bare shoulders and pulled you close. His lips were on yours, plush and pliant and tasting of nicotine. You stood still, your brain trying to comprehend the feel of Bucky against you. You couldn’t will any of your body to move, that is, until you heard your roommate’s voice.  
“Is this Bucky?” Natasha’s voice was cool, as if she didn’t just open the door to you lip locked with a strange man. You pushed Bucky away, her question pulling you out of shock. You made a point to wipe your lips with the back of your hand. But he wasn’t even looking at you, he sending a friendly smile to Nat.  
“Bucky Barnes.” He introduced himself to her. She nodded, eyes flicking over to you before walking away from the now open door. You stepped inside quickly, ready to shut the door between you and Bucky, whose last name you just now learned after being kissed by him.  
“You better not go get another pack.” You scolded him through your teeth like a fed up mother. If you had, though involuntarily, completed your end of the twisted deal he better hold up his end.  
He shook his head, “I promise I won’t. I just found my reason to quit.”  
You slammed the door in his face, not caring how rude it was. You were practically heaving with rage at the gall that man. You had forgotten Nat was even there until she piped up from her spot on the couch.  
“Tony’s right, he is cute.”


	4. Chapter 4

With each passing week the student body filled with tension and unease. Like a mass of stress the campus pulsated with a nervous energy. The energy was bound to break, everyone knew it would, they all knew they wouldn't make it to finals without some stress relief. You could feel your nerves every conscious moment, even study sessions with Steve had lost any pretense other than passing your finals.  
You walked up to your front door after your last class of the week. You were exhausted and barely functioning. With only seven more days until finals week you considered throwing in the towel and letting your grades be decided by fate, but the good student in you knew all you needed was a hot bath to stave off the insanity for a while longer.  
You unlocked your front door and pushed it open wearily. Your bathtub was calling your name. With a sigh you dropped your bag down on the couch and scanned the living room noticing Natasha’s door was closed, indicating she wasn’t home. You smiled and toed off your shoes.  
A night to yourself was rare. Even though Natasha kept to herself it wasn’t the same as knowing you can do whatever you want around the apartment. You felt the need to be a little more devious, a little more open when you were alone. You grinned smugly to yourself and removed your shirt right there in the living room, silently relishing in your solitude.  
Your bath would now be accompanied by loud music, ice cream, and all the hot water available. You dropped your shirt next to your bag on the couch and strode into the kitchen to grab a spoon and a small half pint of ice cream. You had been saving it for after finals, but tonight felt like a night to indulge. You opened the lip and dug your spoon into the untouched vanilla and fudge swirl, bringing the first bite to your mouth as you left the kitchen and headed to your bedroom. With the spoon held between your lips you opened your door.  
There, lounging on your bed with your favorite trashy romance novel in his hand, was Bucky Barnes. With a sequel of surprise around your full mouth you caught his attention. Watching his eyes pull intensely from the pages and run appreciatively over your bra clad chest reminded you of your shed shirt uselessly thrown aside in the other room. Your arms curled around your body and you squealed yet against your cold half-pint igniting goose bumps right above your left breast.  
“What are you doing here?” You tried to say past the spoon in your mouth, even though the question was muddled Bucky seemed to understand.  
“I’m here to take you to the party but I see you plan to have a party of your own.” He winked and threw up the cover of your book for you to see, as if you wouldnt already know what it showed. The man and woman on the cover were naked, conveniently covering each other’s explicit parts. They were lost in an open mouthed kiss and the title etched over them in fancy script read like a saucy innuendo. You felt your face heat at his own innuendo. You put your head closer to the hand covering your chest and removed the spoon from your mouth.  
“Shut up and get out of my room you creep. How did you even get in here?”  
Bucky didn’t budge from his spot on your bed and his eyes did not leave the parts of you that could not be covered by your arms. He shrugged as if it were obvious.  
“Your roommate let me in.”  
You could kill Natasha Romanov! You stomped further into your room and rolled your eyes when Bucky layed down fully on your bed, his arms stretched behind his head. You quickly put your ice cream and spoon down on your desk before pulling on a jacket thrown over your desk chair. A leather jacket that didn't feel or smell like anything you own…  
“Looks good on you.” Bucky’s voice whispered too close to your ear. You jumped and turned around to find him within arms length. His gaze once more freely roaming your body, his eyes darker and greedier now that you were wearing his jacket. All you wanted was to be alone in your own apartment, take a bath, eat ice cream, and veg out. Instead you were making an idiot of yourself in front of the one person you didn’t want to be around. If only it was Steve waiting for you, who caught you in only a bra and holding ice cream. You could have been entwined as erotically as the cover of your novel if only it were him.  
You brushed past Bucky, hoping he didn’t notice you had gotten lost in your own thoughts. He couldn’t read minds you knew, but you always thought dirty thoughts showed in your face somehow. You made your way to your small closet and pulled out a large school shirt, removing Bucky’s jacket and letting it fall heavily to the floor as you slipped into your own clothes.  
“You’re not going to wear that to the party are you?” Bucky asked, distaste and judgement in his tone. You fumed silently, still facing your closet.  
“I’m not going to any party. Especially not with you.” You finally managed to say.  
You heard your mattress squeak as Bucky all but fell on top of it. He picked back up the romance novel and settled into your pillows before sighing.  
“Get out!” You cried at him, pointing at your open door. His eyes didn’t leave the text but a small smirk grew on one side of his mouth.  
“Not until I finish this chapter. It’s getting steamy.”  
You groaned placed your face into your hands, hiding your embarrassment. The book was well worn and right next to your bed, he had to know you favored it and you knew what part he was talking about. It was…graphic, to say the least.  
You turned back to your closet and pulled out a more party appropriate outfit. If going to this party meant getting Bucky out of your bed, out of your room, and out of your goddamn apartment you would go, loose him, and come back to finally relax in the bath.  
You took your clothes out of the room and into the shared bathroom to change. No way he was going to get another free show. The outfit was simple but flattering and you hoped Steve would appreciate it. He seemed to appreciate the simple, quality things in life. You freshened up your makeup and hair until you felt you looked less like a zombie college student nearing finals week before rejoining Bucky in your room.  
He was still deeply engrossed in your book, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You tried not to think about the context of the novel and how it might be making him feel. You knew how it made you feel and that was enough. You cleared your throat and he only glanced up briefly before dog-earing his page and standing up. You kept eye contact, even though your curiosity wanted to send your attention down to the front of his pants.  
“Better.” Was all he said, as if you were looking for his approval in your outfit selection. You rolled your eyes and turned out of the room, grabbing your purse from underneath your fallen shirt. You swore right then never to walk around half naked without thoroughly checking the house.  
You heard Barnes in your room moving about for a few more seconds before he exited in his leather jacket. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and came up beside you as if waiting for you to take the lead. You raised an eyebrow and he only responded with a blank stare.  
“Where is this party?” You asked loudly, throwing your arms in the air. Bucky’s face flooded with understanding but the bastard didn’t even look bashful. He pulled out his phone and scrolled further up an open conversation.  
“Just a few blocks over. Come on.” His vague explanation did nothing to ease your annoyance, but when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the apartment you followed freely, only resisting to turn and lock the front door.  
You had expected Bucky to lead you to a random car in the parking lot, not the weathered motorcycle practically falling over on its stand.  
“I’m not getting on that.” You said, finally trying to pull away from him. He only laughed and pulled you closer to the dangerous vehicle.  
“I have a helmet for you.” He offered through his amusement, as if that was the one thing preventing you from joining him for the ride.  
It took a lot of back and forth. Too much really. You were surprised no one called the police over a domestic dispute in the parking lot. It was only after Tony called that the argument started to lean in Bucky’s favor.  
“Where are you?” Tony practically yelled in your ear. You pulled the phone away from you with a grimace.  
“Where are you?” You asked, ignoring his question. You found yourself yelling into your receiver several times before you caught Tony’s attention again.  
“At the party, baby. Where’s your boy toy? He was supposed to pick you up.”  
Your eyes connected with Bucky’s and you knew he heard your friend’s nickname for him. You groaned and pushed him away, but he only grabbed for your hand and pulled you closer to him and the bike.  
“I’ve got her, man.” He shouted into your phone and by proxy into your ear. You pulled your head away from the offensive noise.  
It was two against one from there. Within five minutes the call with Tony was disconnected and a helmet was being shoved onto your head, not so gently either. You held tightly to Bucky as the engine roared and you cringed at the volume. Was it supposed to sound like that? Shake like that? But before you could ask you were out of the parking lot and onto the street, Bucky’s hair flicking against the face shield of your helmet as air freely passed through the uncovered strands.  
This party better be worth this death trap ride. Bucky was not going easy for your sake.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky had to pry your arms off of him after shutting off his motorcycle, obviously in good spirits despite your fear. When he pulled the helmet off your head your sense of hearing returned and you could hear the indistinct thumping bass coming from the two story house you stood before.  
“Come on, let’s get in there. Get our party on.” You turned back to Bucky, catching him in a silly yet graceful set of moves. His tongue touched his upper lip and suddenly you found your tension slip away. You laughed genuinely at him and allowed him to put his arm around your shoulder and lead you inside. This is the stress relief you needed. Sure a bath would have been nice, but drinking and partying with friends was the quintessential college stress reliever. Bucky opened the front door confidently and led you inside.  
The music was even louder inside. You felt the bass in your chest and allowed yourself to slow and take in the scene. There weren’t tons of people from what you could see. A handful were dancing in the living room, a smaller amount were standing in the open kitchen playing beer pong, and looking straight through to the back of the house you could see a large fire pit and a few faces illuminated by the flames, including Tony’s. You pulled Bucky’s attention away from the kitchen and pointed outside. You expected him to release you, to join the group playing beer pong and leave you to your friend, but his arm remained around your back as you both made your way through the house.  
“Babe, you made it!” Tony bellowed as soon as you opened the sliding glass door. He moved precariously around the flames to hug both of you around the middle and place big, wet, drunk kisses on your cheeks. You laughed along with the rest of the partygoers enjoying the open air.  
“Sorry we’re late,” Bucky began, catching everyone attention and settling down the giggles. “But someone,” he glared playfully at you, “was being difficult.”  
“Oh that’s just like her.” Tony scoffed. It really wasn’t ‘just like you’ and though you tried to protest that flow of conversation ended and everyone easily went back to their own repartee. You could only glare not-so-playfully at Bucky as Tony made his way back to his seat.  
You were being guided yet again by your ever present nuisance to a set of empty camping chairs in between an unfamiliar man and….  
You pulled yourself out from Bucky’s side at the sight of Steve. Did he think you two were together because Bucky’s arm had been so comfortably across your neck before? Shit, you didn't even know he would be here! Why didn't he tell you? Why didn't he ask you to come with him? You feel the tension slowly build back into your chest. If it wasn’t school you were stressed about it had to be your love life. You were about to take the seat next to Steve, hoping to salvage your single image and restate your availability when you were forcibly moved one seat down by hands on your hips. Of course Bucky would literally interfere with you and Steve.  
The men started a discourse easily, including Sam who was sitting next to Steve. You felt awkward watching them chatter on when you were so obviously not invited to join them. You suddenly felt alone, even bitterly wishing Buck’s attention was back on you.  
“Hey, we haven't ever been properly introduced. I’m Bruce.” The stranger next to you offered his hand, which you took after an embarrassingly long moment, offering your own name.  
“I know.” He said with a small shrug, “Natasha talks about you all the time.”  
“Oh, you know Nat?” Your curiosity was piqued at the connection to your roommate.  
Before Bruce could respond Nat opened the sliding glass door and joined you outside, as if summoned by the sound of her name. She carried two red solo cups in one hand right toward you. Your brow was furrowed as you watched her settle into Bruce’s lap and hand him one of the cups.  
“Hey roomie.” She said casually, taking a long sip from her cup.  
“Hey.” You continued to stare at the canoodling couple. They seemed too comfortable to have just met, and too innocent in their touches to be a casual hookup. You could only come to one conclusion.  
“Are you two dating?” You finally asked. Bruce and Nat nodded in tandem. While Nat’s face remained ever impassive, Bruce looked at you quizzically.  
“It's been about a year now. Did Natasha never tell you or something?” He laughed out the question as if it was an unbelievable thought. Nat’s eyes didn’t meet yours as she took another sip from her cup. Bitterness rose like bile in your throat and you felt it burn through to your eyes. You laughed along with Bruce but the sound was empty.  
Sure, your roommate kept you at a distance, always vague about her past and personal life, but after three years of living in tight quarters you thought she would have told you she was dating someone, especially for almost a year. There was so much you had shared in an attempt to connect with her and right here in front of your own eyes was something she chose to withhold. You felt betrayed in a way, and now so much lonelier than you had felt only minutes ago. Your mood was tanking fast.  
“I’m going to grab a drink.” Your voice came roughly as you announced your exit to nobody in particular. You stood from the chair and made your way inside, not looking back.  
You let the heavy bass mix around the bitterness and loneliness as it shook your empty chest. There were too many people around, the living room was too loud and the kitchen was too bright. A drink would have been nice but right now you needed to wipe your eyes of the tears you were struggling to keep from running loose. You turned down a short hallway in search of the bathroom and found it behind the second door you opened.  
The bathroom was quiet and clean and if it weren’t for the muffled babble and laughter that occasionally broke through your sniffles you could believe it was okay to wallow here forever. You cleared your nose and wiped your eyes hurriedly, not wanting to be gone for too long or monopolize the bathroom. You were splashing some cold water on your cheeks when a rough knock came to the door making you jump. You checked your face again quickly assessing your red rimmed eyes before opening the door, keeping said red eyes downcast.  
“Sorry.” You apologized to the awaiting patron. You moved out of their way to allow passage only to find yourself pushed unceremoniously back into the small room.  
“Why are you crying?” You heard Tony ask as he closed and locked the door.  
You found fresh tears making their way down your cheeks and you didn't bother to wipe them away. You sat on the closed lid of the toilet and allowed your closest friend to offer his metaphorical shoulder. His real shoulder was too busy leaning against the door, barring it from any escape.  
“Did you know she had a boyfriend? I didn’t. She didn’t tell me. She never tells me anything, Tony. I thought we were friends.”  
Your head remained lowered as you revealed your heart, but as always Tony was there right in your face. He shook your shoulders none too gently and his eyes met yours.  
“Who needs a friend like her when you have a friend like me, huh? Am I not good enough for you?” You allowed a giggle to push its way through the lump in your throat and Tony’s face exploded with his million-watt smile. He landed a gentle punch to your chin before grabbing your cheeks, pulling and pushing them until your laughs echoed against the small, tiled walls.  
“You always got me,” he whispered, staring at you lovingly. You nodded in agreement. “And you also have that hot piece of ass out there. I’m sure he’d be happy to take your mind off of the roommate drama.”  
You rolled your eyes, moving your hands to Tony’s shoulders and shaking him as roughly as you could.  
“He’s not anything to me Tony, you know I like Steve. All Bucky has done is get in my way.” Your grumblings did nothing to change Tony’s mind. You found your melancholy replaced with exasperation, which was probably Tony’s intention.  
“You keep telling yourself you like Steve, but look in here,” he pushed a finger harshly into your chest, “and in those trashy books you’re obsessed with and realize you’ve always been about the bad boys, darlin’.”  
You were about to protest, come to Steve’s defence as well as your own, but Tony pulled you up and opened the door, pushing you out before you could say a word.  
-  
With Tony Stark by your side it was hard to remain gloomy, that’s why you loved him despite all his other…qualities. He kept your mind occupied with dancing and gossip and your hand always held a cup or a can. Tony must have also made sure Natasha and Bruce kept their distance, as you didn't see them the rest of the night.  
“Middle.” Sam called his shot before the small ball soared through the air and bounced off the rim of the middle cup. Sam, Steve, and Bucky groaned from their side of the table while you, Tony, and Thor jeered. Thor was a nice addition to the night, and as the host of the party it was hard to say no to letting him join your game. He had an arm on him and good aim.  
“Far left.” Thor called in his deep, accented voice and you watched it sail with bated breath. The ball landed perfectly within the called cup, not even touching the rim. Another cheer erupted from your team.  
“Good thing you’re letting us stay over Odinson,” Sam shouted over your celebration. “Because I’m fucked up. That’s the only reason we’re losing.”  
“All losers are welcome in my home.” Thor boomed, his arms extending wide. You ducked out of the way of his long reach, but he only grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you into his side. “And winners too of course.”  
You laughed and wriggled from his grasp, his jovial spirit not affected by your discomfort. Your eyes flicked to Steve, to see if he held any jealousy in his eyes, any longing stare at seeing another man’s arms around you, but his focus was on his turn, the ball already in his hand ready to throw.  
Steve managed to take out another cup, bringing you down to a tie with three cups remaining. With your turn you stepped up to the table. You were by far the weakest link on the team, though Thor more than made up for your terrible aim. You didn’t bother calling your shot and just hoped you could make it into one of the three cups.  
“You ain’t gonna hit it Drools.” Sam heckled. You ignored him, only focusing on the cups at the end of the table. Pale and dark hands alike began to wave just over the cups, making you nervous.  
“Cut it out guys I’m bad enough as it is.” You whined.  
The hands ceased their teasing and you took your shot, missing the table entirely. The ball landed in Bucky’s awaiting hand.  
“My turn sweetness.” You had discovered the more Bucky Barnes drank the more pet names he gave you. Sweetness, doll face, babydoll; it’s like he forgot your name entirely.  
The ball landed with a plop and the merriment switched sides as the men pulled ahead.  
“Drink up.” Bucky teased. You glared as you pulled the ball out of the lukewarm beer, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking the liquid down.  
-  
“You fought a good fight.” Bucky consoled softly, wrapping his arms around your middle. You scoffed.  
“Don't patronize me Barnes.”  
You pushed against his chest halfheartedly. The hour was late enough to be considered morning and you found you were ready to allow the night to end. Bucky laughed sluggishly in your ear as he rested his head heavily on your shoulders, breath exhaled warmly onto your neck.  
“Let’s get him to bed.” Steve whispered, entering your vision beyond Bucky’s large shoulder. You nodded and Steve pulled his friend from your arms, letting him lean against his side as everyone made their way up the stairs, not one person successfully climbing the steps without stumbling. Thor opened the door on the right.  
“Guest bedroom. Bed, couch, floor. Figure it out.”  
You all called a chorus of thanks as he headed into his own room on the left, throwing a hand up to wave goodbye without turning around.  
“I call bed.” Tony rushed into the room before everyone else. He let himself curl up on the far side of the bed and judging by the snores promptly passed out.  
“I got a bad back.” Sam groaned, rubbing his lower back for emphasis. No one protested when Sam fell heavily onto the mattress next to Tony.  
“Me and Buck can take the floor. You take the couch okay?” Steve, ever the gentleman, offered.  
“The couch is big enough for two people. I don't mind sharing.” You bit your lip, hoping Steve would take you up on your offer to share the close quarters of the couch. You released your lip to grin widely when Steve nodded.  
This was your moment. The moment you had been waiting for. The moment your breath would mingle with Steve’s and your lips could meet in the blissful quiet of sleepy drunkenness. He jerked his chin at the couch and you rushed to place yourself upon it, you turned onto your side to allow Steve plenty of room and make it easy for your head to rest on his chest as you fell asleep.  
But then Steve was depositing Bucky onto the couch next to you, lifting his legs onto the cushion before looking up at your shocked expression. He smiled his beautiful, perfect smile and you almost missed what came out of his plush, kissable lips.  
“You’re a good friend.”


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up with a hangover sucks. Waking up with a hangover after being friendzoned by your crush and forced to share the couch his annoying friend sucks more. Waking up hungover cuddling Bucky Barnes could only get worse if…  
“Ugh you’re disgusting! You drooled all over my shoulder.” The revolted cry is what woke you and brought you into the hellscape of your conscious life. You were pushed, albeit gently, from Bucky’s shoulder and looked down to where you once lay to confirm that you did in fact cover his white undershirt in drool.  
You would have apologized if opening your mouth and not puking was a certainty but since you could not be sure you instead rose unsteadily to your feet and rushed to what you hoped was the bathroom. You didn’t bother to close the door and retain any modesty, allowing anyone passing by to see your head in the toilet bowl. You felt terrible and you knew only part of the reason was the alcohol.  
You felt a warm hand rub your back as the other gathered your hair. You groaned in appreciation. A few more dry heaves and you felt safe enough to emerge from the porcelain.  
“You good drools?” Sam asked, still rubbing your back. You nodded, though the nickname made you pout slightly at him despite his help. You had now somehow drooled on Bucky twice and would probably have that moniker forever. Sam helped you to your feet and towards the sink where he poured you a capful of mouthwash and forced you to rinse. You had no issue with the refreshing liquid clearing the offensive vomit morning breath from your mouth.  
“Thanks for the help, Sam.” You said after you both spit out the mouthwash.  
“No problem. Someone around here has to be a gentleman.” He joked loud enough for Bucky to hear as you all found yourself in the hallway  
Bucky’s shoulder was still damp and he looked just as tired as you did. He didn't seem to have the energy for a witty quip to Sam’s insult. So instead you all made your way down the stairs heavily clunking down each step.  
You wouldn't believe it if you weren’t seeing it, but Thor was whistling, literally whistling, and whipping up enough food to feed a 20 people. He was shirtless and spry as he flipped the flapjack out of the pan and onto the plate beside him. How the hell was he not hungover? You managed to pull your eyes away from the incredible scene in the kitchen to find Steve and Tony sitting wearily on a couch in the living room speaking softly.  
It hurt to look at Steve and feel for him how you felt knowing he only thought of you as a friend. He was still beautiful, his eyes still the sweetest blue and his smile stunning, but where you used to feel elation at seeing him you only felt loss for something that never even began. He had broken your heart without even knowing.  
Sam layed down on the other couch, sprawling out with a heavy exhale and looking as if he could fall asleep again. Tony was already nodding off, his eyes shut as he spoke slowly to Steve who looked haggard but awake. If you stayed here you would probably have to talk to him and act like nothing has changed. Your nerves sparked and you felt like you could be sick again. You needed out. With a quick turn you noticed Bucky sneaking out the sliding glass door. At least with him you knew it wouldn't be awkward.  
So you followed slowly, hopefully casually, and not looking at all like you were running away. No one called after your retreating form and as quietly as Bucky had been you opened the door and slipped out.  
“Are you smoking?” You accused once the door was closed. Bucky’s hand was dug deep into the pocket of his leather jacket. He looked like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar before dinner. He shook his head indignantly but you stalked over to stand before him with arms crossed waiting for him to fess up to breaking his promise.  
His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked up into your eyes. He still looked tired but his eyes were sparkling playfully. He bit his bottom lip and released it before looking you up and down.  
“I promise I haven't smoked since we sealed our deal with that sweet, sweet lovin’ baby.”  
You cocked your eyebrow and held firm in your disbelief of his claim  
“What’s in your pocket then?”  
“Nothing!”  
“Then why was your hand in there?”  
“That’s where I put my hand sometimes.” He explained with a laugh. You found yourself smiling back at the antics that you once found so annoying. As quick as you could in your hungover state you bent over into Bucky’s personal space and reached into his jacket pocket and while he was fast he was also hungover thus unable to stop your hand from closing around the contents of his pocket.  
You pulled out the book, looking at it in confusion. It was your romance novel, the one Bucky had found in your room. You knew it was yours from the well worn spine and missing bottom corner of the cover.  
“You stole this!” You accused.  
Bucky reach up to snatch the novel from your hands but you pulled back just in time. You glared angrily at him and pursed your lips.  
“I was just borrowing it.” He exclaimed loudly. You noticed his face was slightly pink. He was embarrassed you realized smugly. You thought of all the ways you should tease and torture him as he had done to you over reading the same novel but your wit had withered and died when you drowned it in alcohol so you only smiled knowingly. It was enough to bring a small bit of satisfaction when Bucky only got more flustered as you held the book just out of his reach.  
His hands came back to your hips and instead of resting there as they did before they engaged in roughly pulling you into Bucky’s lap. You were unsteady and jostled off of your balance by the sudden movement so you put your arms around his neck and clenched your arm muscles to keep from falling onto the dewy grass below.  
“A man has needs,” Bucky said lowly in your ear through clenched teeth. He slid his warm hands from your hips down to your ass and squeezed. With a surprised gasp you unhooked your arms from around his neck to pull his hands off of your backside, but when the hand still holding your book sailed down, Bucky’s hold moved from your ass to the paperback and pulled it victoriously from your grasp. “And since you’re not putting out I have to steal your dirty books.”  
“I don't care if you’re not getting any Barnes,” You said, now on the other end of a game of keep away. “Its my book, give it back.”  
“Kiss me and I’ll return it.”  
You stared at him for a moment before throwing your head back and groaning.  
“We are not playing this game again.” You scolded him. He held the book as far back behind his body as his arm could reach and brought his face closer to you, his eyes flicking between your hard eyes and soft lips. You felt your heart flutter in anticipation and found yourself looking down to his mouth as well.  
The kiss was similar to last time, desperate and hard were his lips against yours, but instead of staying frozen in shock you allowed yourself to kiss back. You could blame the alcohol, it must still be coursing through your veins and lowering your inhibitions. Maybe you could blame it on your loneliness and the heartbreak you felt over missing your chance with Steve. In the end you couldn't lie to yourself, you wanted to kiss Bucky Barnes and fuck if that wasn’t the worst thing you could want for yourself.  
“Hey guys breakfast is rea- oh shit I’m sorry.” You broke the kiss hurriedly, you hadn’t even heard the door open, yet here before you and Bucky was Steve Rogers looking bashful and apologetic at interrupting the private moment. You felt your stomach drop like a ball of lead taking any appetite you might’ve had with it. So what if Steve didn't see you as anything more than a friend? If you kept kissing his best friend he would never see you as anything more. You had to stay away from Bucky if you wanted Steve. You were pulled from your conclusive thoughts by the body underneath you moving to rise and almost sending you tumbling to the ground.  
“Thanks Steve, we will be in soon.” Bucky said in the thick, awkward silence. Steve nodded and turned back inside. With a stinging slap to your ass Bucky maneuvered past you to follow his friend. The sting on your bottom brought you back to the present and to the fact that Bucky still held your book in his hand.  
“Give me my book Barnes we had a deal.” You said with the tiniest waiver in your voice. You held out your hand and found it was quaking ever so slightly as well. The adrenaline form the kiss and the added surge of hormones from being caught in the intimate moment (and enjoying it) had sent your body into uncontrollable tremors.  
“I’ll give it back,” he winked and stuffed the book back into his jacket pocket, “when I finish it…or when you put out.”  
“That wasn’t the deal.” You cried furiously. You made no move to capture your book again, preferring the distance between you to remain.  
“What can I say,” he called behind him as he approached the door, “I’d say just about anything for a kiss.”


	7. Chapter 7

The night before a final was guaranteed to be the most stressful night of your life, at least until the next semester rolled around and another set of finals loomed over you. Your living room was littered with books and papers and your laptop sat upon your lap, plugged in after being drained of it’s full battery twice today. Steve sat on the couch next to you, his fingers tightening around his blonde locks and he grunted in frustration at the open text book in his lap.  
Ever since the party you had been avoiding the Rogers/Barnes/Wilson household like the plague. Between your unrequited crush on Steve quite literally being crushed by the man himself and the kiss you all too willingly shared with Bucky you had had enough of romance for a while, not even accepting Thor’s invitation to dinner just in case he wanted to throw his hat into the ring. But when Steve practically begged you to help him study one last time, even bribing you with pizza, you found yourself unable to say no despite the ache you still felt in your heart at the sight of him.  
“Why are there so many laws?” Steve groaned, shutting the book and pressing his fingertips into his eyes.  
“And dates.” You added, looking down at the review questions your professor recommended the class look at before the final. From the look of the five page worksheet you were expected to memorize every last letter typed into your textbook.  
“Maybe I should change majors. It’s not too late right?”  
You laughed at his dramatics. It hadn’t been so bad, being with Steve tonight. You did have a lot in common, even if you didn't share a mutual romantic interest. And he was smart, catching things you apparently had overlooked sometime during the semester. Plus with each hour that passed into the night you couldn’t help but feel more and more okay with just being friends with the guy.  
A sharp knock resounded through the room, originating from the front door. You both turned quizzically at the noise.  
“Did you order another pizza?” You asked. Steve shook his head, still looking confused.  
“No, is it Natasha?”  
You rolled your eyes, “Why would she knock on the door of her own apartment? She has a key!”  
Another knock came before Steve could retort and you hurriedly stood and approached the door, if only to get rid of the distracting, offensive noise. You peered through the peephole before griping pathetically to yourself at the image on the other side.  
“Who is it?” Steve asked from his spot on the couch.  
In response you opened your front door to reveal Bucky, leather jacket clad and holding your stolen book in his hand.  
“Hey doll, thought I’d return this.”  
You raised your eyebrow at him in disbelief, “At one in the morning?” You asked, peering back at the digital clock on your cable box. Bucky simply shrugged and strolled past you without invitation.  
You closed your door with a snap before turning onto Bucky, your nerves frayed already from the stress of your test. He didn't even turn around to look at you as he walked into your room and flicked your light on after saying hello to his roommate. As you stared daggers into his back Steve stood and began to gather his things.  
“I didn't realize you guys had plans tonight. I’m just going to leave, it’s late anyway.”  
“There were no plans, Steve, I promise.” You said hurriedly. You could feel the urgency to keep the night going work its way into your words. You needed Steve to stay, to study, and to not leave you alone with Bucky Barnes.  
“Still, I’m sure you two want to be alone…” He trailed off, indicating he meant something more than he wanted to say out loud. You knew exactly what he intended to say without speaking and suddenly your previous desperation to keep the study session going was replaced by the desperation for someone to understand how you really felt about Bucky, because for some reason no one accepted that you just weren’t together.  
“I don't want to be alone with him. I barely know him! It baffles me that you and everyone else think me and Bucky are anything other than…well we aren't even friends! He’s just a klepto perverted jackass who can’t take a very big hint that I am not interested.”  
The silence that rang out after your rambling was palpable and the look on Steve’s face was one of shock and surprise, but just beyond that was the hurt, hard look from Bucky himself.  
You had forgotten he was there, only a room away and though he had been out of sight he had definitely not been out of earshot. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as his fists roughly lodged themselves into his pockets.  
“Message received.” He spat, causing Steve to turn around and remember Bucky was there too, but his calls did not stop Bucky from stomping past him and yourself and out the front door.  
“Bucky, wait.” You opened the door just as it slammed shut behind the upset man. He was already at the end of the hall, working his way swiftly on his long legs. You followed as fast as you could, calling his name futility.  
“Please, stop. Let me explain.” You tried as you caught up to him in the parking lot. He had just straddled his bike when your hand clasped around his upper arm. He looked at you, his blue eyes so cold they sent a chill down your spine.  
“I think you already explained it perfectly upstairs.”  
You quickly backpedaled your way through the words you said upstairs, stumbling over the thoughts that raced through your head as your mind tried to rewrite the harsh message into one more gentle and easier to swallow. You didn't want to hurt him like you just did, but judging by his grave expression he did not accept your newly censored words. He pulled his leg back over the seat of motorcycle and stood beside it with arms crossed, leaving the vehicle between the two of you as a buffer.  
“You want to know what I think?” He started, you flinched at the waiver in his voice, knowing he was trying greatly to conceal his stricken feelings under the effort of ire. “I think you need to get off your high horse and join the real world. Those books you read are just fantasy, no guy is like that.”  
“Steve is like th-” you started before you could stop yourself. You watched the color drain from his face as his chin wobbled dangerously.  
“No,” he barked, “even Steve is not anything like those guys from your trashy novels. But yeah, he’s good. Better than me right? Even if he’s not interested in you. Does that make for a better romance to choose the guy doesn't like you?”  
Tears were falling from his eyes now causing your own to flow. The passion between you two pulled long dormant feelings so intense they made your hands shake and your lips go numb.  
“I’ve never read a story where a guy like you gets the girl in the end.” Your words cut as deep as you had subconsciously intended. Bucky’s harsh gaze left yours for a moment as he hopelessly looking out into the quiet lot. He looked so lost at that moment and you instantly felt guilt flood your lungs and make it hard for you to breathe. He reached up to wipe a fallen tear off his cheek before turning his attention back to you, a sneer fighting to stay on his face as the corners of his mouth wrestled downward into a desolate frown.  
“You’re right. They don't write love stories about the guy who after seeing so much death can’t find the point in living. They don't write love stories about the guy bumming on his friend’s couch because his screams were waking his little sisters up at night. They don't fucking write fucking love stories about the guy who’s so afraid of what goes on in his own mind that he shuts himself off to everyone, even his best friend. They don't write love stories about the James Buchanan Barnes of the world because the James Buchanan Barnes of the world can’t even love himself, so why would the pretty girl fall for him over his best friend?”  
“Bucky,” you choked on his name as it pushed out of your very soul. You could barely see him through your own heavy tears but you could feel him, feel the frightened, uncertain man under the cocky bravado he had hid under so well before now. You reached over the motorbike separating you, wanting so badly to take back everything you had said and just hold the hurt man close, but he only continued to keep his distance, stepping back out of your reach. “Please, I didn’t know. I-I’m so sorry.”  
“I am too doll.” He replied coldly, his hollow, ironic laugh echoing through the parking lot. He pulled himself back onto his bike and turned it on, the loud engine scaring you into taking a step back. He released the break and wiped his face, refusing to look your way.  
“Go back to Steve.” He shouted over the hum of his engine, stabbing you one last time with more guilt and heartache before he eased himself out of the parking lot and onto the street.


	8. Chapter 8

You arrived early for your exam, not out of any due diligence or eagerness but simply because you couldn’t stand to be alone in your apartment anymore. Steve had disappeared by the time you spurred yourself from the spot in the car park where Bucky left you. You were grateful to find him gone initially, but with each passing hour you wanted nothing more than to see Steve and ask him how Bucky was doing. Your tired, puffy eyes darted toward the lecture hall doors every time they were eased open by a classmate, hoping each and every time Steve would walk through that door and give you some answers.  
The hall was filling up fast as the start time loomed closer and as your luck would have it the man in question arrived two minutes before the hour and sat down in the nearest seat to the door, giving you no time to talk.  
Even if you couldn’t ask him anything from the other side of the room and four rows back you could still observe him in the time it took to pass out the exam questions. He was hunched over, his usually immaculate posture nowhere to be seen. His hands fidgeted within each other, picking and pulling and tapping. Was that nerves for the test or something more? You were pulled out of your reverie by the person next to you setting the final test copy for the row onto your desk.  
“Time begins now.” Your professor announced, and as one the class flipped the cover page to reveal the first set of questions.  
Time moved as slow as your brain did. The two hours provided seemed so long and yet still not enough time to answer the fifty questions in your hand. If you thought too hard about a question your mind would flash an image of Bucky in tears and bring forth your own which blurred your vision. If you took too long to move on to the next question your mind would echo with his confessions of self hatred and suddenly your heart beat would quicken and you had to take a few deep breaths to be brought back to the present. It didn't help that Steve was within range of your wandering eyes, and did they wander when blinking back tears. You noted as best you could what page he was on and what answer bubble he was filling in on his scranton so that when he was ready to turn in his test and leave you would be prepared to chase after him and quiz him on the status of his best friend.  
Like some sort of blessed torture you managed to finish the exam before Steve. You handed over the scranton and question sheet before removing yourself from the room a pacing just outside the door. As the two hour test window grew smaller and smaller you felt your apprehension grow larger and larger. Finally, the tall blond emerged from the lecture hall, coming face to face with your worried expression  
“How is he?”  
“We need to talk.”  
You had both spoken over each other hurriedly but both messages were heard. Taking your upper arm, Steve led you away from the classroom and down the hall to a set comfortable chairs by the windows. You both sat gingerly on the edge of the plush seats. In the natural light permeating through the large windows you could see the red rim around his eyes and right below then the shallow black bags of a sleepiness night. He was also sniffling much like you and you knew as his eyes rested on you that he was seeing much of the same, if not worse.  
“He uh,” Steve began, his voice catching on fresh anguish. He cleared the throat and tried again, “We talked a lot last night. Really talked ya know? He went through a lot overseas that he hadn’t really told anyone and I feel stupid for not noticing…” He paused to wipe away a rogue drop dangling from his lower lash line. “I found some places he can get help. I only hope it’s not too late.”  
A small band of students walked down the hall toward you and you paused your private conversation from their passing ears. You kept your heads down and waited patiently for the group to turn the corner and leave you to yourselves.  
“I’m really sorry.” Steve started again, still staring down at his clasped hands. “I should have realized you didn't like him back. I guess I was so happy to see him so enamored with someone I didn't stop to think if the feelings were mutual.”  
“Enamored?” You repeated. The word felt heavy on your tongue.  
Steve let out a chuckle, “Basically from the first moment he saw you at the library.”  
“I guess I never noticed.” You mused more to yourself than to Steve.  
“I’m starting to think we don’t notice a lot of things we don’t want to see. I didn't see Bucky’s pain because I was too wrapped up in my own life. I imposed the idea of my best friend over the actual person and almost lost him. When I had nothing I had Bucky. It’s my turn to help him now.” Steve confessed.  
You stared long and hard at Steve Rogers as he sat in introspective silence. Haven't you done the same thing? Hadn’t you ignored Steve’s blatant disinterest in you in favor of imagining him as your perfect guy, if only he could see it too? Didn’t you disregard Bucky’s feelings for you, as misguided as they came through in his actions, just because he wasn’t Steve? Hadn’t you been ignoring Tony’s drinking problem for months because no matter how much you want to say something about the empty bottles strewn about his bedroom you didn’t want to ruin the idea of your own best friend by addressing his pain? You swallowed heavily and sniffled, feeling like for the first time you were really seeing past your own ego.  
“I have to go.” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts. He rose from the chair and you followed. “I’m taking Bucky to meet with a new PTSD center a couple counties over and we don’t want to be late.”  
You nodded, “Keep me updated please. And let him know…” you paused, trying to figure out the words you could say that would encompass all you wanted Bucky to know: that you were sorry, that you hoped he found the help he needed, that he was right and you did have an unrealistic expectation for romance, that he was wrong and he was worthy of a love story even if you had to write that one yourself.  
“Tell him to come see me. When he’s ready.” You finally concluded with a firm nod. Steve smiled in thanks before heading down the hall.  
-  
Two months later  
Fall semester was looming ever closer and you found yourself anxiously awaiting the first day of classes. It would be a fresh start after a summer of personal development and you were excited to see how you and your friends would fare.  
Tony, your best friend, would be finally starting his dissertation. He had spent many sober nights at your place that summer, talking about the things that plagued him when he wasn’t drinking; his father and the legacy that came with the Stark name, his stint in the hospital for a drug overdose that resulted in a pacemaker he kept hidden from everyone, except now you. Your friendship had only solidified deeper into a lifelong bond since you approached Tony about his drinking, when you realized risking your friendship was worth saving his life.  
Natasha and Bruce were engaged and you could not be happier for them. You had come to accept that Nat and you would never have the friendship you had envisioned and once you had done so you found both of you had an easier time opening up. While she was still private about her past sometimes she would tell you about work or something cute Bruce did. You were the first she told about the engagement after it happened.  
You saw Steve and Sam almost every day and if you didn't see them you were at least texting them in your group chat (you and Sam more than Steve, that man was out of touch). You could not have asked for more loyal and helpful friends. Despite the occasional teasing about your salivation (“you got a gland in there that's obviously broken sweetheart”) Sam was always up for hanging out. He would come sit with you when you were lonely, or run with you when you were feeling unmotivated, he even helped you post ap flyers to find new roommate when Natasha moved in with her fiancé.  
And once you got over your crush on the idea of Steve Rogers, because that’s all it was- a crush on what you imagined him to be, you realized he was kind, dedicated, noble, smart, and really a total package…for someone else. You finally admitted your infatuation to him after a few drinks at the bar and you found his laughter neither offensive nor hurtful. It had truly been hilarious, especially when you considered who you and Steve talked about the most…  
Bucky had been gone from your life since that night, having been taken in by the Wakanda Healing Center. He spoke to Steve once a week on the phone, sometimes for hours and sometimes for only a few minutes, but no matter how long it took you were waiting for Steve at the bar when the conversation ended awaiting an update. From what Steve told you he was doing well, but lately that was all he offered you. You tried not to be too pushy for information despite your curiosity, after all it wasn’t you who Bucky decided to speak to every week.  
But still you thought of him often, more often than you admitted to anyone, even Steve. You hoped one day he would reach out to you directly, and you asked Steve to convey the message each time they spoke. One part of you wanted to see how far he’d come for yourself while another part of you wanted to show him how much you had grown too. Both parts of you missed him dearly.  
The apartment felt bigger without Natasha’s things filling it. The bathroom was cleared of her toiletries and her haphazard pile of DVDs no longer framed the tv. Her room door remained open so you could look in from the couch and lament the days you wished you lived alone. With a week left before that start of the semester you anticipated the room to be filled soon by someone responding to one of the fifty flyers you and Sam posted around campus two days before.  
A knock to your door confirmed your expectation and you eagerly rose from the couch. Smoothing your favorite summer dress down and putting on a welcoming smile you pulled open the door.  
“Bucky?”  
The man before you was most certainly James Buchanan Barnes, albeit with longer hair and a thick, scruffy beard. He looked good; healthier somehow even though he didn’t look sick before. You gaped openly as you took him in, your eyes moving up his body to rest upon his shy smile.  
“Hey.” His voice was scraggly and rough but full and deep enough to pull you back to the present. Your wide, welcoming smile turned genuine in your excitement to see him. You lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed, pouring weeks of wanting and loss into the embrace. His arms encircled your waist gently and you felt him relax into you.  
“I’m so glad to see you.” You whispered as you pulled away to take him in again. “You look good.” You added as an afterthought.  
He looked down bashfully, letting a hand off your hip to run his fingers along the side of his hair pulling it back and allowing you to see more of his thick beard.  
“Thanks. I feel good.” He chuckled. He reached into the pocket of his familiar leather jacket and pulled out a bright orange piece of paper, you recognized it as one of the flyers you and Sam put up the other day.  
“So I hear you have an open room,” He started, wiggling the slightly crinkled paper, “as a new student I could use some housing close to campus and I think this place is perfect.”  
You couldn’t stop smiling and since your lips wouldn't cooperate to form words you simply nodded. Bucky exhaled a shaky laugh letting his eyes flick over your face in disbelief.  
“I enrolled as undecided,” he began to explain when you didn’t provide him a verbal response, “I figured I would explore my options, maybe take a few classes with friends. Do you and Steve have any classes together I can tag along to?”  
You shook your head, “Actually I changed my major to psychology. A couple months ago someone I knew felt like he was alone in the world and made me realize I could help people like him get better, because he made me better, even if he never got to see it happen.”  
You bit your lip nervously, hoping the things you’d been so compelled to tell him didn’t scare him away. There was a pause as he bit at his own lips before finding the words he wanted to say.  
“I want-well I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner tonight.” He said taking you back for a moment. “I know we haven't talked in awhile but I think about you every day and I want to set things right between us. Because I really like you and I know before you said you weren’t interested-”  
“No- I mean yes, I would like to go to dinner with you. And umm,” You sputtered out finding nervousness overtaking you, “I’m not not interested, it’s just before I was so caught up in Steve and I thought you were just messing with me. But me and Steve are just friends…well we always were I guess. Oh my god I am just rambling please interrupt me!” You ended asked in a rush of words. Bucky’s smile was so big it created crinkles around his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.  
“Would you mind if I kissed you?” The requested intrusion was expected but the context of the question was not and you found yourself unable to immediately answer as you considered his desire. “You don’t have to say yes.” He added quickly, “I’m working on talking about what I want instead of just taking it and I really want to kiss you. But if you don't want me to that’s your right as a person a-and a woman-”  
You interrupted his rambling with your giggles and when he let out an embarrassed chuckle you stepped closer to him, pulling his arms back around your waist in a loose embrace.  
“I wouldn't mind at all if you kissed me, or took me out to dinner, or moved in to Nat’s old room.” You said resting your forehead against his, “but I think it would be great to talk first. I have a lot to say for myself and a pretty big apology to make.”  
Your lips met sweetly in a chaste kiss so unlike the kisses he stole from you before. You could feel the difference in Bucky state of mind through the pressure of his lips and soft tickle of his upper lip. It made you smile as you gently stroked the facial hair on his strong jaw, the skin underneath flushing red in embarrassment. Your lips met again and again as you held his face in your hands.  
“I should tell you now before I’m far too deep,” he whispered against your lips, “I still have nightmares and I still don’t feel ready to start school. On the bas days I lash out and it turns out I’m still kind of a pervy jackass because that dress you’re wearing is doing things to me.” You both took a moment to laugh softly at that before Bucky’s expression turned serious, “Whatever we might be starting today won’t be anything like those romance novels you read, doll and I won't be that perfect guy.”  
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, feeling the corners of your eyes prick with emotion. He wasn’t perfect by any means and you knew it would be a struggle sometimes, but as you stood here looking into his honest, fragile blue eyes you knew in the end he would be the right guy for you love story.  
“I don't read those books anymore, but I we can make our own. One where a girl like me can love a guy like James Buchanan Barnes.”  
Bucky’s eyes shined brightly with unshed tears and his strong hands gripped your hips allowing you to feel his emotion emanate where your bodies connected. He tried to contain his grin and hung his head low so you couldn't see his face. You waited with an affectionate patience for him to regain his composure, your eyes never leaving the parts of his face you could see.  
“Not to ruin the sweet moment doll,” He murmured roughly looking down, but when he rose his head his lustful gaze was undeniable “but I really want to get to the smutty parts of our trashy novel.”  
You laugh loudly and smack his shoulder before pushing him away from you gently. The reaction was a total one-eighty from how you would have responded only a few months ago and that thought was not lost on either of you.  
Keeping eye contact you made a point to close and lock your apartment door and with it barring any of Bucky’s naughty thoughts from turning into action within the privacy of the apartment.  
“You’re right, that pervy jackass is still in there.” Despite your annoyed tone you reached forward and grabbed Bucky’s hand, linking in within your own and pulling him towards the stairs.


End file.
